(Be him) He's a mortal. Young, naive, undeniably handsome, and knows a goddess, even in disguise. Without hesitation, he kneels before me in the marketplace. Not wanting to be revealed, I tell him to go home. He quickly shakes his head. "Please, your majesty, let me carve you," he begs. I pause. I'm not a well known deity so to be asked this is a dream for immortals. I nod and he takes me to his small home. He wastes no time in beginning my likenesses in the large block of marble, focused.